


Really, You Were Perfect

by zayndehaan



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/F, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Tribadism, technically underage because meg is 15, this is basically just smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-19
Updated: 2013-06-19
Packaged: 2017-12-15 12:06:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/849373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zayndehaan/pseuds/zayndehaan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christine hadn't predicted exactly how much the secrecy necessary for their relationship would turn Meg on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Really, You Were Perfect

"Maman can never find out," Meg says, her voice breathy as she nervously laughs. In the darkness of the room, Christine can just barely trace with her eyes the dim shape of the girl's long blonde hair, spread out over the threadbare pillows. It takes a moment for her to realize who her friend is referring to; ah, yes, Madame Giry.

"She never will," Christine promises, and presses a kiss to Meg's collarbone. Meg arches up into her, her whole body convulsing with the motion. For a dancer, Christine would have expected Meg's movements to be fluid and agile while doing this. Instead, the blonde girl is almost trembling with anticipation and a sort of electricity that Christine can feel running through her friend's collarbone into her lips and nerves.

"I'd get in so much trouble, Christine," she chatters on, apparently unable to focus without talking incessantly even now. "She'd punish me awfully. She's already so strict with me, you see, and if she found out I was-- that I was--"

"That you were making love to another girl?" Christine whispers hoarsely, and Meg's entire body quivers as she lets out a soft gasp too quiet to be heard in any other setting. Christine slides a leg in-between Meg's thighs, and hikes up the dancer's skirts around her waist. The girl adjusts her legs obediently, letting Christine straddle her thigh. Once she's firmly situated atop her leg, she thrusts forwards with her hips, causing a small cry from Meg. She continues. "And not even another ballet dancer, a singer? The  _leading soprano_  of the Opera Populaire?"

Meg's breathing has become heavier and harder, and nimble fingers skitter down between them as Meg attempts to stroke at herself. Christine continues, voice growing dark and bordering on dangerous. "Your mother would probably ground you for  _weeks_ , Meg. You'd be locked up in your room, all alone, not allowed to see anyone. Except I know my way around this theatre, and I do believe I know a way to sneak into your dressing room."

Meg lets out a completely incoherent noise, and for a moment speech is postponed in favor of adjusting themselves for greater friction. They strip themselves of their undergarments, and then toss them aside, neither of them having the willpower to take the time to undo their extensive skirts and corsets.

Christine moves so that her legs are completely perpendicular to Meg's, and she's directly straddling the girl, so there is nothing between them now. Meg reaches up with the hand she'd just been touching herself with to grab Christine's hair and pull her closer, and oh, God, Christine thinks, Meg has no idea what she's doing to her by running her dirty fingers through her blonde hair and pulling them together.

Christine leans back (Meg was always the more flexible of the two of them, but she can at least do  _this_ ) and rolls her hips against Meg's, and she can feel how wet Meg is under her. Shuddering and nearly shaking, Meg's hands fall from Christine's hair and claw along her arms, leaving white marks that will fade shortly. Christine doesn't even feel them; she smiles at Meg mischievously and then gasps out, "And once I'm in your dressing room, and your mother thinks you're alone, do you know what I'm going to do to you, Meg? I'm going to fuck you into the bed so hard you nearly scream."

Meg does nearly scream, and Christine can sense how close she is, so she stops talking and forces all her effort towards helping Meg finish. When she does, Christine does shortly afterwards-- Meg's eyes rolling back in her head before her lashes flutter closed and her whispering Christine's name in reverence is altogether too much for the singer.

They keep moving for a few seconds, blending themselves together, and then Christine smiles benevolently, reaching over to the bedside table to grab a small towel. Meg stays her hand, shaky fingers wrapped around her wrist with eyes still closed. She opens her eyes, and Christine is pinned down under the force of her gaze.

"We're not done yet," Meg says, and it may have been intended to sound like an order but instead it sounds like a plea, a playful question. Christine grins, and leans down to kiss Meg.

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first attempt at a POTO fic, and my second attempt ever at lesbian smut. please tell me what you thought! feedback'd be marvelous.


End file.
